


Incorrectly Correct

by TheCookieOfDoom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cause fluff, For the first time, Greyjoy Shenanigans, Happy Ending, In a later chapter, M/M, No Angst, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Theon's Right, Theon/Jon is the brotp, and some smut, but for all the wrong reasons, but thats good, he's gotta help Jon seduce Robb, practice gone wrong, this is a little more silly than my other works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: Theon and Jon are sparring, physically and verbally. He makes a remark about Jon's soulmate mark, saying that Robb has one in the same place. He's jus fucking with Jon, but it turns out he's actually RIGHT. Jon and Robb are adorakable, Theon is entertained, and he has terrible ideas for helping Jon seduce Robb. Jon shouldn't take love advice from the resident manwhore. Shenanigans ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a bit more lighthearted than my usual works, since I've been writing so much angst, and I was challenged to write fluff. So here you go! Jon and Robb are precious beans, Theon is like that one friend that always brings the alcohol and weed. Everyone loves em, but they're a lil out there.

Jon and Robb were only eleven years old. Just foolish children, really, as they sat across from each other on Robb’s bed, sleeves rolled up and arms extended towards each other. Both had expressions of complete concentration, the kind of which only a child can muster.

“Hmmm. Maybe… that one!” Robb suggested, pointing at a dark spot on his forearm and then one on Jon’s.

“That’s just freckles,” Jon said, squinting as he looked at the marks. “They’re not even in the same places either! That’s your left arm, and my right one.”

“Oh… Are you sure?” Giggling, Jon nodded, moving so that he was sitting by Robb.

“Yeah. See? That’s right, and that’s left.”  Robb pouted, but nodded along, picking up Jon’s right arm to scrutinize it while Jon tried to hold back laughter. Then, of course, Lady Catelyn came to find where her son had run off to.

“Robb, there you are. What are you boys getting up to in here?”

“We’re trying to see if we have any matching marks! Jon keeps saying we don’t, though.”

“Is that so?” she said slowly, looking between them. She didn’t saying anything about it, though, let the boys have their fun. She knew they didn’t mean anything by it. Jon, however, knew when he wasn’t wanted, so he quietly slid off the bed to leave Robb and Catelyn.

Jon put the thought of matching marks out of his mind for several years. It wasn’t really brought up again in anything more than a passing comment until he was sixteen years old.

“What is with you northers and your thing with birthmarks?” Theon asked one day while the three of them were practicing. He didn’t look like he really cared, he knew the answer already He just liked to pretend he didn’t to be aggravating. In fact, it was likely that he was just trying to distract Robb. And Rob, being the romantic that he was, played right into it.

“They’re not just birthmarks. It’s a sign from the old gods that the person with one that matches yours is who you’re meant to spend your life with.”

Theon sidestepped Robb with a scoff, bringing his sword down so fast that Robb was barely able to lift his own to block. “Sounds like bullshit to me. We don’t have such boring rules like that in the Iron Islands. If we see someone we want, we take them.”

“That’s because you islanders are barbarians,” Jon called, hiding a smile.

“You’re half southerner, aren’t you, Jon? What do you think about all of this?” Jon returned Theon’s self-satisfied smirk with a glare, waiting for their fight to end so that he could go over and put Theon on his ass.

“I think our gods favor us northerners more than your drowned god favors you, or else they wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of marking us.”

“Are they really your gods, bastard?” Jon grabbed his practice sword and ran at Theon, Robb moving out of the way with a laugh to give them room. He went to take Jon’s place on the side lines, watching as the two went at each other furiously.

“Easy, boys, don’t kill each other,” Robb called.

“Do you even have a mark?” Theon asked, both of them completely ignoring him in their efforts to cleave the other in half with their blunted swords. Jon was quickly gaining the upper hand; Theon’s talent was with archery, not sword play. He knew how to fight, but only in the most technical sense. He was stiff with a sword in his hands, unlike Jon who moved as if it was an extension of himself.

“Yes,” he grunted, shoving Theon away with his swords when they crossed, immediately pursuing.

“Where is it?”

“My thigh. Now shut _up_.”

“Which one?”

“Left. Why so curious, hoping you’re my match?”

“Match maker, more like. Did you know Robb has a mark on his left thigh as well?” Jon was surprised enough to lose focus, looking at Theon in surprise. It was all the other boy needed to take Jon’s feet out from under him and put him on his back, point of his sword at the hollow of his throat. “Yield?”

“Fuck you, Greyjoy.” He took the hand Theon offered him, letting Theon pull him up.

“I’ll pass, Snow. You’re not my type.” When they went to rejoin Robb, Theon looked at him curiously. “You’re blushing like a maid, Stark.” That earned him an elbow in the side from Jon.

“Are you alright?” he asked, scowling when Robb nodded quickly, before going to put his sword and practice armor away. “That was…”

“Very non-Robb behavior,” Theon finished for him, nodding in agreement. “What do you think his problem is?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“You should go find out.”

“Why me? You’re the one that was acting like an idiot.”

“That’s fair. Stark, take your pants off!” Jon looked at him, aghast. Theon just waved his hand at him. “No, I’m actually going somewhere with this. I think my comment about his mark may have hit a little too accurately.”

“Well if that’s true, then you’re better with your tongue than you are with your sword—dammit. _Don’t_.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty good with both, actually,” Theon said with a delighted grin. Jon shoved him away, going to put his gear away. They had wasted enough time talking, though, that Robb was no longer in the armory. Sighing, Jon resigned to trying to find Robb later that night.

Sometime after dinner, once everyone had turned in for the night, Jon made his way across the keep to Robb’s room. He knocked on the door to signal his presence, but didn’t wait for permission before entering to find Robb halfway through stripping down.

“You’re worse than Theon, you know that?” Robb said, tossing his shirt aside and turning to face Jon.

“I didn’t shout across the courtyard for you to take your clothes off, so I like to think I’m not _quite_ as bad as he is.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what was bothering you earlier when we were practicing.”

“It was nothing.” He looked down, playing with the laces of his pants until Jon walked over to catch his wrists. He didn’t say anything until Robb looked back up at him.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know. You fidget.” Robb smiled a bit, still fidgeting. Just as he was about to speak, the door opened again, this time Theon leaning his head in. He took one look at them, with Jon appearing to be taking off Robb’s pants, and his eyes widened.

“Well, this is… Congratulations, you two.” He ducked out of the room as if he’d just been confronted with a whore and a child she claimed to be his.

“No—! Theon it’s not what it looks like!” He went to the door to find Theon, but the man had already disappeared down the hall, not wanting to stick around. “ _Fuck me.”_ Behind him, he heard Robb sitting down on the bed with a groan. When he turned, Robb had his head in his hands, looking pitiful.

“Well…” Jon went over and _locked_ the door this time, to prevent unfortunate intruders, and went to sit beside Robb. He clapped him on the back lightly.

“That was horrible.”

“A bit, yeah.”

“It could have been worse?”

“Hah. Yes, I suppose it could have. At least I still had my pants on.”

“Exactly. That would have been way more incriminating.” Robb snorted softly. “Actually, speaking of you not having pants on, I’d like to go back to what Theon said earlier.”

“Can we not?”

“No, not until you tell me what’s been bothering you. Theon was just teasing, trying to distract me while we were sparring, but you’ve been acting like he was correct.” Jon was smiling, confident that Theon was, indeed, incorrect about the exact placement of Robb’s mark. He became less sure, however, when Robb stiffened. 

“He was wrong, wasn’t he? There’s no way your mark matches mine.”

“… It’s likely not in exactly the same place as—what are you doing?” Jon had already stood and was working open the laces of his trousers before Robb was even finished speaking, stopping for a moment to gesture to his.

“Go on then. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You were the one that’s been avoiding me. Come on, not like I haven’t seen you without clothes on before. Just take them off, and we can clear up this nonsense.” They would compare, like they used to do when they were boys, see that the marks were in fact not identical, and they could move on as if none of this had happened.

Robb stood as well to oblige, working open his pants and sliding them down his legs, Jon doing the same.

“Oh,” they both said in unison, quiet, when Jon turned so that they could compare their marks. Same place, same color, same shape. Undeniably identical.

“I guess Theon was right,” Jon said, his voice sounding hollow. Sure, many times growing up he had thought about having Rob be his match. Even hoped for it, on some occasions. But he had never thought to have those imaginings become reality like this. He wasn’t sure how to feel now that he was confronted with the reality of the situation. Silent, he pulled his pants back on, then went to the door.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Robb asked, quickly pulling his own pants back up. Jon shrugged, his hand on the door, not turning around.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“We’re matched.”

“It appears so.”

“So…?”

“So? I don’t know what you want from me, Robb.”

“I… I don’t know either. But I think we need to talk about this.”

“As I said, there’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight, Robb.” He was out of the room and leaving for his own without another word. A cowards move, he knew, running away from Robb like that. But he didn’t know what to say to his brother. Is wasn’t as if they could be together and live happily ever after, now, just because they were marked. Life wasn’t a fairytale; it didn’t work that way, as much as he wished it did.

Lost in his thoughts, Jon didn’t realize where he was going until he ran straight into Theon, almost knocking the man to the ground.

“What are you doing out here? I figured you’d be warming Robb’s bed by now. And his co—“ Jo clamped his hand over Theon’s mouth, looking around the hall to make sure there was no one around to overhear Theon’s crude words.

“Don’t say that,” he hissed. “If someone were to hear you—“

“There’s no one around to hear, or I wouldn’t have said it,” Theon said, pulling Jon’s hand away. “What happened? Why _aren’t_ you with him?” Still wary, afraid of anyone passing by and getting word back to Catelyn about what had just transpired, Jon grabbed Theon by the front of his shirt and lead the older man to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

“My, I’m flattered, Snow, but I told you earlier, you aren’t my type.”

“Shut up. And keep your clothes on, that’s not why I brought you here.”

“Why did you, then?”

“So that you wouldn’t run your mouth where anyone could hear you. You do realize the impact it would have if anyone heard you talking about Robb and I, don’t you? I’m his brother, for gods’ sake; if rumors got around that we were sleeping together, it would ruin him, and Lady Stark  would probably have me hanged out of spite.”

“And…? I feel like there’s more than that.”

“ _And_ I have no idea what to do. You were right, damn you, we’re matched.” Jon looked like he would be sick just saying the words out loud. Speaking them made them more true, in a way.

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What? You have to have some advice.”

“Why do you think I would have any in the first place?”

Jon shrugged, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “I don’t know. You’re always talking about sleeping around, I thought you might have some kind of helpful insight.”

“The only advice I can give you is advice on sex, and I think this might be a bit bigger than that. I mean, your match is supposed to be the person you fall in love with and spend the rest of your life with or some shit, right?” As if he didn’t know all the same legends Jon did, didn’t grow up hearing all the same stories.

“That is the general idea, yes.”

“Well. Do you love Robb?”

“He’s my brother, of course I do.”

“Maybe… don’t call him that.”

“Right. That does make all of this a bit uncomfortable to think about.”

“Anyway. What you need to do is make him fall in love with you. Shouldn’t be hard, he’s a hopeless romantic. Should’ve seen him after his first time with Ros, he was ready to get on his knees, and not in a way she would have liked.”

Jon went to go light the fire and add a few logs to it, mostly to have something to do rather than listen to Robb’s history with whores. “I don’t exactly know how I’m to seduce him. It’s not something I’ve done before.”

“I can’t help much with winning his heart, but seducing him I can help you with. Everything else should be easy after that. Now, we just need a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should add somthin:   
> Normally I write them more mature. They're like 16/17 (not sure EXACTLY their ages but around there) and in their world they're basically grown men, so I go with that. But in this one? Nah, fuck it, they're going to be angsty, foolish 17 year olds.


End file.
